Dark Souls II Erotica -- Song of the Milfanito
by RobertWoodwose
Summary: The Milfanito are displaced and jaunted accross time, to the final hours of Dragonleic. There they find The Rotting, an incarnation of their master Nito. They attempt to appease him and prepare for the coming Dark. 3Plus, Fingering, H/C, Inc, M/s, Oral


We are the Milfanito, and our song is the most cherished of the dark.

My sisters, who are also Milfanito, sometimes lose themselves in their black dirges, and are scattered away like flickers of gossamer. Here in the caves of the dark, no place is certain, no path linear. We are flung to far corners and threaded through time. It has been this way since the great Dead One, Nito, made us; we are thrown among the little ones, the cursed undead, to sing them back to the Gravelord.

And as my sisters are jostled from their midnight operas, so am I displaced from my own.

I wake up, throttled from my dreams by some wailing crescendo. It was a cacophonous buildup of suffering undead that stretched and stretched at the corners in my mind, until it became unbearable. Then it was as if the whole world burst – and I woke up inside a small, dismal cave. It was not a cave I was familiar with; it seems I am displaced across eternity once again. I see pools of acid under cold, dark stone, and little white statues dribbling poison. I step out and find myself on a sprawling walkway leading through a breeding pit of giant spined worms – and below, an infinite pitch-black gulch yawns out.

My song placates all things, and with its power I'm allowed through the walkway undisturbed. My short, cream colored dress is torn to frills as I walk through the pits of spike-covered worms, exposing much of my pale, bare flesh. I am stripped down to little more than my lace-woven undergarments, but am wholly unharmed. At the end of the walkway opens the mouth of another, much larger cave. It is dimly lit by the starving embers of a primal bonfire, its dying light reflecting off the rocky walls. And just around the back of the cave, I hear a sluggish, terrible weight crawling forth like living slime.

"Uuurrrr… What's this?"

Its form was towering and gelatinous. Its arms and legs numbered in the hundreds. It wore a twisted cage around its cancerous head, and dragged its massive fleshy body across the blood stained floor. It seemed to be tinkering with something.

"Stay away! I am The Rotten, and I'll… Bllaaurrbb… Boil your flesh with disease!"

It was constructing one of those white statues. They were sculpted busts of a woman, whose mouth bubbled with deadly venom. The walls behind the monstrosity were lined with them.

"I am Milfanito, monster. Do not be afraid. Would you share your flame? I am weakened and need replenishment."

The Rotten struggled with the statue between its numerous hands for a few moments, then it tossed the flawed thing aside in a fit of rage.

"HAAURR! Afraid? You think I fear **you**? I am festering **death**, little girl!"

In truth, I could not deny his resemblance to Gravelord Nito. I sang my song of passivity, and was surprised to see it had no effect.

"Cease that racket. You break my concentration!" There was only one other that had such immunities – my lord Nito himself.

"What manner of creature are you? What are you doing?"

"You presume to make demands from me? Auuurr, I'll suck the flesh from your bones!"

"As you wish, milord."

The monster gave pause at the words. "Lord? I am no lord, imbecile."

"I have learned to recognize the various manifestations of my lord." I reached my hand up towards him.

"Nonsense!" With the swipe of one of his meaty, blistered hands, he sent me crashing into a pile of broken statues.

"Warm yourself on the bonfire if you must, but leave me be!" he turned and crawled his way back to his pile of statues.

I rose from the shards of shattered statues, cut and blooded in tender places. My brasseire was torn open, exposing my blossoming pink suppleness. Indeed the monster allowed me to soak up the primal bonfire's radiance, but his blow had broken some of my bones. I required a more plentiful energy source.

I quietly approached the beast as he labored in his litter of maiden statues, but his sense of hearing was impeccable.

"Did I not tell you… Hurrr… To stay away?" he did not turn to me when he spoke.

"Your statues are lovely."

He remained silent.

"Would you allow me a closer look at the craftsmanship?" he neither affirmed nor denied the request.

I approached one of the statues, receiving no complaint, and ran my fingers across its chiseled face. "They're quite beautiful."

"And quite cursed. Hrrnn, such are the false trappings of—" he turned his head towards me just then, and froze upon gazing my body. "—Beauty."

The heat from the primal bonfire had me in an unseemly sweat; it dripped down my bosom, forming tiny droplets at the tips of my nipples.

"Come monster, tell me about yourself." I gently laid my hand on one of his forearms, sending a visible ripple of flesh up it's his body.

"Hrrrnn… There is nothing to tell. I am The Rotten. I am what lurks here, in the Drain of Worlds. All things will come to me in the end. My body is made of the thousand-hands of the dead, and within them all things will dissolve."

This is the first incarnation of my lord that I've seen with a full body of flesh. I shamefully admit that the wriggling sight of his multitude limbs lead me to some…. Arousing thoughts. I slowly caressed the forearm with my hands, and The Rotten seemed not to mind.

"You are… Injurrred. Broken. Aaurrr… You shouldn't have come here. I am an abomination, even among monsters."

I lift one of the hand up to my face, gripping one of its giant-sized finger and stroking it lovingly. "That is not how I see you, milord. What I see is what you see in those statues you make. A beautiful, cursed thing." I gingerly licked the tip of the finger, looking up to his great iron-barred face. "I see a creature I want to make love to, for all time."

The Rotten lowered his head down to my comparatively tiny stature, and watched my movements very carefully. I brushed my hands over my heaving, sweaty breasts, closing my eyes as I leaned my head back. My hands then slid down my lithe waist, as it hypnotically twisted to the sensual rocking of my hips. I hooked my fingers under the straps of my unmentionables, pulling them up so the cloth would wedge deeper into my nethers. The sensation sent chills through my body, and wetness down my womanhood.

A hand reached out from within The Rotten's head-cage, grasping at the soft globe of my bosom. A sigh of pleasure escaped my lips as the hand groped and squeezed at my voluptuousness. I could not help but reach into the thin, laced cloth of my undergarment and massage the folds of my moistening labia. I squeezed my thighs as I teasingly pushed my fingers up against my slavering crevice.

After the hand came the full upper-body of a stitched Hollow; it was one of the fallen little-ones that became part of The Rotten in death. Like the hand, it reached out from his iron cage, grasping me by the cheeks and plunging its bloated tongue into my lustful lips.

Its tongue filled my mouth as my drenched fingers filled my sensitive inner depths. I surrendered fully to the Hollow's passion and leaned myself into its ravishing embrace, sucking on its wildly thrashing tongue as I masturbated madly.

Another Hollow emerged from the cage, grabbing me by my slender thighs, and together they lifted my body closer to the rusted bars that composed The Rotten's face. The Hollow that lifted me up from my thighs spread my legs out to a 'V' shape, and the one that was lathering his tongue all over mine had pulled himself from my lips and wrapped its mouth over my reddening breast.

The Hollow under me pulled my undergarment cloth aside, revealing the dripping meat of my heated loins. With exact timing, one Hollow began to swirl its tongue around my erect nipple as the other Hollow wriggled its grotesque tongue into my lower tunnels. Their tongues slopped greedily, filling me to the very brim with ecstasy.

The Rotten lifted his great head, and me with it, as the two Hollows passed me down into the eager hands that covered his body. I was completely engulfed by frantically groping hands, and moaned blissfully as they left no flesh unexplored.

"Fill me, milord. Split me apart and fill me with your power."

And upon my urging, I could see a gigantic, tumescent member rising from the base of The Rotten's hulking form. I was carried atop the palms of a dozen, violating hands; fingers were callously shoved into all of my wet, bodily holes, and my womanly curves were traced by cold, rough hands. I stopped moving after a moment, and could feel two pulseless hands spreading my buttocks apart. I looked up just then, and to my breathless excitement, I saw my three Milfanito sisters shambling into the cave.

The Rotten saw them as well, and indeed my sisters saw me.

"Another age draws closer to its end, sister" one of them spoke to me.

"We have been cast here, where we will soon be needed" said the other.

"We must draw power from the great Dead One, for the tasks ahead" said the last.

They approached The Rotten together, each surrendering themselves to his perverse grasp. They were each lifted and carried up his writhing body to my side. As it always was upon our reunions, we could not keep our hands off of each other. One of my sisters embraced me deeply with passion-enflamed lips and curious tongue.

Another sister dug her face into the postured rear of the one that was kissing me, lapping and sucking on her noisily as she plunged her tongue further down my throat. The last sister prodded the quivering mound between my legs with her tongue as she more thoroughly excavated it with her two fingers.

We were a moaning, sucking, groping bundle of limbs and sexual desire, rubbing and grinding against each other in possessed passion. I noticed that The Rotten's statues had begun to salivate some sort of white liquid, rather than the poison it secreted before.

The massive tip of The Rottens throbbing, corpulent manhood was now nuzzled in my rump. Its touch shocked every nerve in my body to life, making me euphorically sensitive to even the slightest breath. I could feel its immensity forcing itself up into me, but it was impossibly large.

"Milord, perhaps a smaller –"

And with a hint of anger, The Rotten heedlessly pushed the colossal rod of flesh even further. I let out a curdling scream as the member began to pierce my labia, its girth stretching my inner walls to their utmost limit. A torrent of my love fluids poured from between my thighs as my hips widened around The Rotten's entry.

"Milord, you'll break me! It is much too… Much too… Unnnhhhh!"

I felt a bulbous mass of warmth breaching into me. The pain was blinding, but so was the pleasure. The other Milfanito took it upon themselves to urge the pulsing member further into me; they pulled my legs to opposite ends, and sloppily lubricated its head with their tongues. As it inched further and further into my foaming lower lips, its unrelenting massiveness threatening to tear me apart, I was seized by a violent series of orgasms.

And finally, with a sharp, stabbing pain, my strained womb yielded to The Rotten's girth. Its head alone was enough to stuff me like a puppet. He motioned the phallic mass in and out of me slowly, careful not to tear my pelvis open. I was completely lost to a seemingly endless chain of pleasurable convulsions. More Hollows crawled out from the folds of The Rotten's body, and along with my sisters, they smother my body with their damp, wiggling tongues.

The heat of the Rotten's member began to intensify, and I could feel a guttural rumbling under his skin.

"Mmmh. C-come, milord. Drown me in your taint!"

The Rotting bellowed with an otherworldly sound, rumbling the very foundations of this place, and I could feel a rupturing of liquid fire filling my deepest corners. On the edge of my vision, I could see The Rotten's little statues vibrating fitfully, and they too spurted milky fluids all over my sisters and me.

The Rotten's hands carried us down his vast body, and laid us down in puddle of his sticky white excess.

"Then you have my power, Milfanito. I thank you… For your tenderness."

"Go and do what must be done." At the sound of his voice, and at the edge of our dissolving lusts, we could do not but sing.

"Uuuurrrrgg… Yes. Sing. Sing for your lord."


End file.
